


Beautiful Hands

by madwriter223



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Both Types of Those, Graphic Description, Hand Jobs, Hot, Hot Sex, I'm Surprised at Myself, M/M, Smut, Vulcans Have Sensitive Hands, like wow, really graphic, wink wink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-08
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-28 15:54:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2738285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madwriter223/pseuds/madwriter223
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pretty much just smut. Smut smut smut. I do so enjoy those. XD</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beautiful Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Written long ago. The type of syntax is an odd one, but I think it adds to the fic. ^_^

The touch is hot, nearly too hot for his human skin. And even though it's almost burning, the long fingers are gentle as they dance over him. They wrap around his length, rub gently around the base, scratch delicately just under the crown. One palm wraps around him and slides first up then down, repeating it over and over. A careful finger of the other hand touches the very tip of his erection. It presses, as if curiously, against the slit, and dark eyes watch intently as the pearly beads form then drip down. Then the digit presses down and back a little, widening the tiny opening and wrenching a loud moan from the human. A barely there scratch is delivered just inside the opened slit, accompanied by the quickening of the other hand, and it's almost too much. 

There is a liquid fire burning in his abdomen, a tingling fire dancing across his nerve endings, a solid fire wrapped around him, touching him, caressing him. He comes, his seed splashing across the hand still poking curiously at his slit and dripping down to the fingers still wrapped around him.

He stares at that hand, at those fingers, and at the glistening drops on slightly green skin. He roamed his eyes over the slender length of the fingers, the delicate curve of the palm, the almost-seductive slimness of the wrist.

God dammit, he was already starting to sound like a hob-goblin.

Still, even though it was his seed marring the beauty of those hands, it could not be allowed.

He grabs both wrists and pulls them closer to his face. He extends his tongue and drags it up against the arch of first one, then the other palm. He gathers the white drops and swallows them quickly so that he can return to his task. He cleans up the palms, paying extra attention to the sensitive spaces between the long digits. Then he slowly, reverently slides a finger into his mouth, sucking on it gently, like one would on a long-absent treat – savour each taste.

He twirls his tongue gently around it, till all he can taste is the heated skin and the green blood thrumming beneath it. He slowly pulls the finger out, ever so gently scraping his teeth against each joint. 

A gasp, a shudder, a moan.

He takes in another finger and treats it in the exact same way, cleaning it gently, thoroughly. Its three neighbours soon receiving the same care, just as tender and just as slowly.

Finished with one, he releases his grip on the slender wrist and starts on the other hand. Not once does his attention waver, not once do his ministrations quicken. Slow, careful, deliberate.

A hot body presses against his chest, and the now clean hand trembling where it's pressed against his chest, right over his heart. A headful of soft hair tucks itself under his chin, and gasping breaths of his name shiver across his skin.

Slowly, he pulls the very last finger into his mouth and sucks on it; he wraps his tongue around it and pumps gently, pressing firmly against the skin. His free hand rises and tangles in the dark locks, fingertips brushing against the delicious point of one ear with a barely there. Through that tiny point of contact, he pours his love for his darling. All the admiration he feels for his soul, the raw hunger at the sight of the long naked body, the finely muscled legs, the slender hands, the delicate pointed ears, the enticing arches of brows.

The body in his grasp tenses, and a cry of his name, as soft as a whisper, ghosts over his skin. He can feel the hot droplets of the Vulcan cumming. They stain his front and cling to his skin stubbornly.

Always stubbornly.

He releases the hand and wraps both arms around the relaxing chest, pulling his sweetheart closer to himself. He nuzzles one arched brow and licks gently against the length, then leans back against the headboard with a satisfied sigh. He smiles softly as his darling presses a delicate kiss to his collarbone and leans down to nip carefully on the tip of one flushed ear. He grins when he feels the Vulcan's organ twitch against his abdomen.

Oh no. This night was far from over.


End file.
